Chapter One
by tamzistyles
Summary: Instead of meeting Edward in Forks, Washington, Bella meets Edward in Chicago, Illinois in 1917, when they are both 16 years old. A forbidden relationship with love letters and late night meetings starts off well, but what happens when the enfluenza hits?
1. Chapter 1

Forbidden to Love

Chapter One

Summary:

Instead of meeting Edward in Forks, Washington, Bella meets Edward in Chicago, Illinois in 1917, when they are both 16 years old. Bella's father, Charlie, has forbidden her to have dates, unless he chooses the guy for her. When Bella's stubbornness overpower her fathers, she disobeys him. Unable to stay away from each other, Bella and Edward come up with a very _Romeo and Juliet_ like way to see each other, to be sneaky. A forbidden relationship with love letters and late night meetings starts off well, but what will happen when the influenza strikes? This is a story I made out of my favorite books in the world; The Twilight Saga, and Romeo and Juliet. There are no vampires in this particular story, but there will be in the next installment. No "lemon" in this story either, considering that back in 1917 they believed in waiting for marriage until they made there way to the lemonade stand, so… no lemon here! But, feel free to read this, it's a good read. If you like Twilight, Edward and Bella, then this is the story for you!

Today was supposed to be a big highlight in my life. My first trip to town with out my mother or father in attendance. My father did not agree, but my mother thought at sixteen years old, that I was mature enough to go fetch a bouquet of roses with the money she gave to me. However, I was not feeling sunny about this trip at all. In the town of Chicago, many people thought of me as a scandal to the humanity. I wasn't what they would call a lady.

With my father being a wealthy and respected lawyer, I was expected to be well mannered and well trained, but most would say I was the faithful opposite. I liked to run, and I would do so early in the morning when the sun was just rising. I would fly through the empty streets in a pair of boys' jeans. I would run for miles and miles, never stopping to look back. The women who liked to natter would get up early with there daughters to watch the "mad girl" dart through the streets.

The girls at school would pester me about it to no end, until they felt they had pushed me too far. They would not want to end up like Lauren with two black eyes, and a broken nose. She had teased me far too much, and had got what was coming to her. I wish I would have no less than knocked out a tooth that would not grow back. She had not come back to school because she was so humiliated about it that she had her aunt home school her. I learned to tune out people at school. I had no friends, and the teachers would not call on me for an answer even if I were the only one with my hand raised.

Nevertheless, I made good grades, the best in the school. I always made the best grade on tests and homework, because I studied hard. What better was there for me to do? During the summer when school was out I worked at a mechanics shop in town. It took me a year to get them to give me the occupation, but I had finally proved to them that I knew everything the men did. I did not need the funds, but it was nice to have; I just needed a distraction from the tediousness the summer brought on me. School would be letting out for the summer again in a week, and I could not wait for the work.

I was always good with fixing things, regardless of what it was. Some people would refuse to have me work on their possessions, terrified that I would destroy it further. When someone cracked a joke about me, I would just roll my eyes, another very unlady like thing to do. But I had friends at the shop. They were all adult men, but they were nice to me when not everyone else was, and they stuck up for me as big brothers would to a little sister. The most recent rumor around town was that they took my virtue the first summer I started working there, and that was the only reason I kept going back. There was also a tale last summer that I was planning to run away with the youngest one who worked at the shop, Joseph.

There was not an individual I had met yet that did not think I asked too many questions, or dressed in a way a woman should not. Apart from special occasions, I wore a vibrant sundress and let my hair fall flat on my back. It was lengthy, unlike most women, and because of my clothing habits and hair, I was a social outcast who was looked down upon by others. Today I wore a weightless sundress, strapless, that went to the tops of my knees with my black converse shoes. The sundress was a deep indigo color that looked good with my skin. I did not like to dress in a corset and gown, due to how taut they felt. I preferred to only wear them to parties or special occasions, but I did not like to wear them then either.

No one ever spoke a word to me anywhere, no even at parties where it was only respectful to say hello to everyone present. I would just sit alone and read while others socialized and danced. Most girls my age would have been married and had several children, but not me. I was not only dreadful in the eyes of others, but I was not the best looking either. I had the palest skin anyone had ever seen, and so may thought I was incurably ill. I had always been a pale shade, and I had always been healthy.

I was not terrible looking, but compared to other girls my age, I was undistinguished. I was formless and colorless, and looked down upon by everyone; there was no hope for me. I had never dreamed about having children or a partner, but it seemed expected. It did not matter, because there was no one in the world who would want someone like me to be there wife, when they could have a girl with an hourglass shape and child bearing hips.

I made a decision to sidetrack myself from those thoughts by looking at all of the newly built houses. Most were one story, but there were a few two stories also. I happened to live in a yellow three-story house. It was a rather big house for only three people, I was an only child. Renée had had several miscarriages since my birth, which is why Charlie and Renée were happy to have me. They did not care if people talked about me, they knew who I was, and knew I was too stubborn to change anything about myself.

I was a bit caught off guard when a attractive looking boy with reddish brown hair came jogging out of a pretty two story house with a lovely garden that flowed into the back yard on the other side of the street. He had the prettiest, glowing green eyes I had ever seen. He was probably seventeen or eighteen years old, and he had a muscular build, but not too muscular. I was even more caught off guard when I looked down at his left hand and saw no wedding band. How could a man as handsome as he not be married to a woman just a beautiful? Maybe he is still engaged.

I turned my head the other way as a heated flush invaded my cheeks, if he were looking at me he would see it for sure. I peeked over at him swiftly; he was staring straight at me, of course. A man never noticed me at any time, but at a moment when I was wholly mortified, a very good-looking one was gazing at me with interest in his eyes, probably trying to fathom what I was so embarrassed about.

I looked over at the houses on the same side of the street that I was walking on for a while, until I was sure his house was out of sight. I sighed a thankful sigh and looked to the other side of the road again. I leaped a foot in the air when I become conscious the boy was following behind me at a snail's pace, not quiet hiding the fact that he looked engrossed in me. He could not possibly care about me, not him. But, he unmistakably had something crucial to say to me, because he was now jogging in my direction with those unwavering green eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Forbidden To love

Chapter Two

What would this beautiful boy want to say to an exile like me? He probably wants to just make fun of me and taunt me as the other boys do at school. I have not seen him around town, so he had probably just moved in with in the last week. He would be joining the kids in teasing me soon enough, I was certain. The new students were warmed up to poking fun at me at once, with a little support from the other children. In a wave of rage, I whipped around to face him, finding that he was just a few feet from me; I stood tall and waited for him to orally criticize me. He jogged up to me in his pricey custom-made garments as if he was going out to some exceptional occurrence or something. Who did he think he was? It was not going to bother me, if he has the courage to make fun of me, then I would make fun of him back. Immature perhaps, but it would only be rational! I could not see one thing wrong with him, but maybe he would have a trip over his tongue or he could not pronounce his "s" right.

Bullying a boy no less than a foot taller than me may perhaps be challenging, but it was not unattainable. The people in this town, and towns neighboring us, would find out before the day was done, but the rumors could not get any worse than they already were. Everyone would believe what this boy said happened, true or not, and I am sure this boy would make it appear worse than it was. Being anything but mannerly and woman like around a boy or man was something the people would never forget, because it was never done. I wanted to punch this boy in the face before he even spoke one word to me, but I would wait.

He started to slow his pace, being nearly on my doorstep. He was already closer to me than anyone, male or female, dared to go. There were lies that I did not bathe, and that I had a wretched and appalling odor. This was incorrect, of course. I wash twice a day, sometimes more. Surely, he had heard the women blather, he would know. Maybe he would get close enough to know that I did not reek, and then he could testify that back to them. I am more than sure that the women without more ado warned him of me the first opening they got. It did not matter to me anyway; I had never been one to take pleasure in close physical contact, maybe because I did not get much of it, besides from my parents.

I tried to look for imperfection in his facade, but there were none. I could see that as he drew nearer to me, he was a representation of exactness. I focused my interest from him to the sidewalk, where my feet were planted powerfully. I was thankful that I had worn my converse shoes in the present day; I might need to hunt this boy if he comes to a decision to run once I lost my temper. I would chase him if he made an effort to upset me with some offensive remarks. I would beat him stupid if he got too close to me too. If this boy thought he would be legendary for being a jerk then he was way off beam, instead he would be sorry, as sorry as I could make him without slaughtering him; only because I would be hung, a show everyone would pay to see.

I did think highly of his guts though, I will give credit where credit is due. No one ever made contact with me alone, more than ever since the day I showed Lauren how I could loose my temper when I was irate enough. Couldn't this boy know just by looking at me that I was one not to come near, one who he wouldn't want to be caught with? If anyone saw him with me, it would ruin his reputation. He had the makings to marry a gorgeous woman and be a profitable man with lots of money, but that would all end too soon if he was seen by anyone standing closer that five feet from me. Was he mad? I should warn him about it, since he must be oblivious.

He finally came to a complete stop in front of me; he was almost close enough to touch me. He did not have a nasty expression on his face, so I would her him out. He was pretty out of breath after running all that way, so I gave him a minute to catch his breath. After catching his breath, he lifted his eyes up enough to look into mine, but when he did, he stopped breathing and just stood there staring at me. I waited patiently for him to say something, whatever thing, but he never did. It seemed to drag on forever, hours, but I suppose it was probably just a few seconds.

He finally snapped out of it and extended his hand to me. What? Did he want me to shake it? I stared at his hand for a moment, and settled on to being gracious for a change, reached out and shook his hand. I shook his hand twice, assuming him to let go, but he kept shaking it. I become conscious that he was looking into my eyes again. His hand was bigger than mine was, and sturdy. His upper arm was somewhat bigger than mine was, I could see his muscles contract as he kept shaking. I wanted to keep shaking his hand more than anything, but that would be preposterous, and I was beginning to grow uncomfortable. When it became clear to me that he did not plan to let go any time soon, I pulled my hand away, and a warm flush flooded my cheeks.

He looked al little embarrassed too, but he was tan enough that if he blushed I did not see it, but I could see the embarrassment in his green eyes. He looked down at his feet before looking back up to me, but I kept my eyes on his, reading his emotions. He seemed easy to read. With a soft sigh, he seemed to gain some confidence and spoke to me in a voice that made my heart skip a beat.

"Hello. I'm Edward Mason, and you must be Bella Swan." I had to focus on his eyes, as his lips were threatening to catch my eye. How would he know that I liked to be called Bella, instead of Isabella? The women must have been gossiping about it. A blush spread over my face, and which made me blush even worse. He smiled at me, probably noting my humiliation. I did not have anything else to say to him, so I just asked a stupid question that I already knew the answer too. However, it did not come out the way I desired it to.

"H-how did you know to call me Bella?" I flushed again, making myself look like a complete fool, and he started laughing at me. I looked up at the sky in trying to look at anything but him.

"You're a very popular topic in town. I've heard nothing but things about you since I got here three days ago." I frowned at that, it was apparent he would have heard the tales. So…why is he talking to me? Does he want to be made fun of like me? I wondered how many of the rumors he had heard, along with how many warnings he got to stay away from me. I ignored what he said and presented him with a question that he could answer, even if it hurt me to say it.

"So…why are you talking to me then? If you've heard the things they say?" He looked a little surprised, then mad. I could not understand why he looked either expression, it did not make any sense to me. He kept staring into my eyes, as I did the same to him. I am sure that he could read the expressions in my eyes just as I could read his.

He gave a casual shrug and looked to the ground for a minute. "Because I didn't believe them. And when I saw you, it was clear that you must be the one they were talking about, and you erased all of the doubt from my mind. And now I know that they are just starting rumors that are untrue." he seemed to have complete faith in me, but I could not understand why he would. He could be wrong, about the rumors. Not all of them were rumors, some were true. He surely would not want anything to do with me once I told him the truth.

"Not all of the things they say are false…some of them are true." My voice came out small, smaller than I wanted it to. The look on his face changed to surprised, then cautious. Would he want to know which ones were true? Suddenly he looked gloomy, like he could cry.

"Are you really sick, terminally ill? With only six months to live?" He seemed sad, but I did not know why. Did I look sick? To him, probably. People always say that I am dieing, because of the color of my skin. It seems too pale to them.

"No, I'm not. Do I look sick to you? I am in just as good physical shape as you are, if not more. The people in this town have been saying that I only have six months to live since I was eight years old. The women just like to gossip, and I seem like an easy target to them." The words came out defensive and harsher than I intended them to be. Nevertheless, I could not bring myself to express regret to him.

"I'm sorry Isabella. I did not mean, I dint mean to insult you in any way. It's just, your so…" He did not finish his sentence, I would not let him. I was livid now, and I took it out on him.

"Pale? Yeah, I know. And, I cannot stand it when people call me _Isabella_, so call me Bella. Why does everyone always trust the things others say? You'll be teasing me on Monday morning when I walk though the doors just like everyone else, so just…leave me alone!" I was yelling at him by the time I was finished, but he did not look afraid, he just looked baffled. I did not give him time to say anything else. I turned around and started heading to town, where I would loose it on anyone who I caught talking about me. I just was not in a good enough mood for that.

I kept walking, even when I knew that he was following me. "Wait! Wait Isab- Bella! I just want to talk to you!" Just talk to me? I could not imagine him wanting to _just talk to me_. I ignored him, and just kept on walking. I pretended that I had not heard anything at all, although he was almost screaming. Then he was in front of me, blocking my way.

He looked resolved to talk to me, and I was resolved not to. I shoved past him, and he got the look on his face that said: _**I know what they were talking about now**_. He was clearly shocked by my actions, and I was pleased. Maybe now he would finally leave me be and go on his way. However, of course, he did not.

"Please! Just give me a chance! I'm not going to make fun of you like everyone else does, I just need a friend, and you seem like a good friend for somebody like me." I could not help but react to that. I would have had to be lifeless not to. My heart inflated and I was in high spirits for a minute.

"Me? Be _your_ friend? Are you sure about that? Everyone will talk about you like they talk about me, you know. And don't you know that girls and boys aren't supposed to be friends?" Where did he come from? Why would he want to be friends with a girl? Particularly me. He did not look shocked by my words; he must know they would talk about us.

"I don't care what they say about us. Let them say what they will. We'll know the truth and that is what will matter, isn't it?" Was that supposed to be charming? He even had a marvelous twisted smile on his face that I thought would be the death of me. I suppose we could try to be friends. Why not? If he proved to want anything more than that then he would have to answer to my father. Nevertheless, my father would not approve of me being friends with a boy in the first place, no matter how fine. But who was to say Edward was a fine boy? And who was to say that I was a fine girl? No one.

"Okay. We can try to be friends, if you really want to get picked on…" His smile got bigger, reaching his striking green eyes. Did he take that as a yes? It was a yes. Darn. A merciless part of me, deep down inside, wanted so badly to tell him no, but I just could not. I did not have anything to loose. If he wanted to be friends, then fine, we could be friends. It would not be long until someone saw us together and told my father, then I would be in a snag. However, if I did happen to like Edward, then not even my father could keep me away from him. I could be very creative when it was vital.

"Good! So…where were you heading before I got lucky and saw you?" He was melting my heart already, and I forgot what I _was_ doing before I saw him. I had to backpedal. _Agreeing to be friends; running away like a little girl; getting annoyed; hoping he did not notice the blush; seeing him come out of the house…._Ahh! I was on my way to get some flowers. Would he want to be seen with me?

"I was actually on my way to the flower shop. You can tell people… that I'm your cousin, and that my mother demanded that you accompany me to town." He had a perplexed look on his face; did he want to be seen with me? Was he senseless? Was I? Yes to the last two unquestionably. What was he going to say to me this time?

"What do you mean? If someone wants to know why I am with you, I'll tell him or her the truth; I'm not ashamed of you. I'm actually… swollen with pride." I blushed and looked down at the ground. We were so close to town that I could hear fair-haired and hefty Tilly Allen prattling like an idiot about some new recipe she found. She would most likely see us first. I stole one last fleeting look at Edward, before Tilly hit the floor from the astonishment of seeing me, for once, with someone.


End file.
